Langer Loksh

Where's Waldo?

Cousin Fleetwood

A Joke I Told my Dad that Made Him Laugh

Mr. Schwartz hears a knock on his front door, and when he opens it, there's a telegram delivery boy there. "Telegram for Mr. Schwartz," the boy says. "Oh, a telegram! I've always wanted a singing telegram! Will you sing it for me?" says Mr. Schwartz. The boy is reluctant. "I really don't think it's a good idea," he says. Mr. Schwartz begs, "Please, for an old man?" The boy says, "Oh alright, if you insist. Da da, da da da DAH! Your sister Rose is dead!"

What's for Lunch?

Those of you who do not live in this fine Commonwealth may not have heard about the Fluffernutter debate raging under the gold dome of the State House, so I thought I'd share.

A state rep from the People's Republic of Cambridge, outraged that his third grader had been served a Fluffernutter for lunch, tried to ban Marshmallow Fluff from school lunches. Fluff has been made by the same Massachusetts company in Lynn, Lynn, City of Sin, since 1920. A state rep from Reveah countered the Cambridge guy with a bill naming the Fluffernutter the official state sandwich.

This all happened the same week that Whole Foods Market decided not to sell lobsters anymore, because of the heartless way that lobsters are treated. As if the dead cow stocking the Whole Foods butchery cases had such a nice life. Chef Jasper White pointed out that 10,000 families in New England and Canada make a living off lobstering. "Lobsters," he told the Globe, "are for dinner."

He's Huge in Germany

Haven't you always wanted to wax David Hasselhoff's chest hair? Go ahead, enjoy a little manscaping on this sunny Friday.

Utter Genius

I am blown away by this blogger's genius. He re-enacted Game 6, 1986 in Nintendo RBI Baseball. TOTAL GENIUS. (Thanks, Nice Guy Tom.)

Mr. Cementee

This one's for you, Jeff Z. We discovered this fetching bit o' public art in Lowell. "It looks like an upside-down mouse," I said. "It looks like an upside-down owl," Summer said. Summer was right; it's called The Industrial Owl. Here is the label copy:

"This sculpture offers a commentary on America's obsession with the commodity of violence and our reliance on oil instead of Earth-friendly energy sources. The owl-like structure was constructed from vintage carnival rides (gun-equipped airplanes made for small children). The bird's gilded wings are a symbol of its suggested mobility, but the propeller at the top is broken. The heart is an empty oilcan. The two decaying black pillars only allow the piece to silently creak in the wind, unable to fly." 

Ah, the old silent creak.

Next month in book club: The Heart is an Empty Oilcan, by Carson McCullars.

The "gun-equipped airplanes for children" part is the best though. It reminded me of a sniglet (In case you didn't have HBO in the early 1980s, a sniglet is a word that should appear in the dictionary but does not.): Mr. Cementee: noun. A cement mixer painted with brightly colored dots, presumably to attract children.

Of course, Jeff M. would have me tell you that term for that piece of equipment is not cement mixer but concrete truck.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

We start them young.

Just a Really Big Doughnut

from Heav'nly Donuts in Plaistow, New Hampshire.

Avenging Lobsters

Tonight we observed the ancient annual cookie decorating rite. This year's offerings included a dead Iraqi and several angry lobsters. The lobsters were for Jeff's sister Kerry, a marine biologist who cuts off the eyeballs of lobsters to figure out how old the lobsters are.